


lionhearts

by NaomiLeyers



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-02-12 13:29:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12960261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaomiLeyers/pseuds/NaomiLeyers
Summary: in which Spartacus really is a king in a war with Rome, Saxa is a daughter of a chief of one of the Germanic tribes and Mira was sent to persuade her to help him





	1. Mira

**Author's Note:**

> nothing belongs to me except plot

“You are sending me away,” she says, her voice soft and hurt.

Spartacus leans back against the chair, his clothes creased and circles under his eyes painfully visible. He looks tired, Mira thinks. Not that it matters; all of them look tired in last time.

“I am sending you to gain help,” he replies.

“You could send anyone,” Mira says and she cannot help feeling betrayed. 

She knows she was never anything more than a friend who happened to be close when Spartacus broke down after his wife had been murdered, but it still hurts to know it is over and they will never be together anymore. She knows she could never be his queen, but she loves him and it isn’t like she necessarily wanted him to marry her.

“Of course,” Spartacus says, “I could send Crixus. The Germans would surely welcome him with their arms wide opened.”

“Agron then.”

“Agron is a skilled warrior and I see him as a brother, but that doesn’t change his painful lack of diplomacy. I believe we can destroy Rome once for all but I need help. I need allies not more enemies. ”

“Oenomeaus.”

“He will not return from his mission sooner than in a fortnight. I need help now or we are all doomed.”

Mira crosses her arms on her chest, which must look ridiculous but it doesn’t matter. What matters is the simple truth behind Spartacus´ words. That they are as good as dead, that Rome has sent an army and that Spartacus can be the greatest tactician in this world but Thrace doesn’t have enough warriors and if he loses this war, they will all go back to their meaningless lives as slaves unless the Republic decides they are too dangerous to be let alive.

She wants to tell him, that she will stand by his side till the end no matter what. She wants to tell him that they all believe in him. 

“I´ll be ready to leave at the dusk,” she says instead.

He wishes her good luck.

He doesn’t tell her he wants her back. 

She leaves the palace alone and kind of thinks, that when she eventually comes back, she might not have anything to return to.


	2. Saxa

“You look much better without them,” Gannicus says as she puts on her dress, slips on the sandals and fastens the belt and daggers.

Saxa looks back at him to give him a stern look and he laughs and she rolls her eyes and returns to her bed and presses her lips against his, deep and passionate.

She still isn’t exactly sure how it happened that they became friends and lovers or maybe vice versa after he found her at the borders with Republic wounded and dying, and she definitely doesn’t regret it, but-

But. 

She isn’t getting any younger and she isn’t married and her father is scared of Rome and is more than willing to exchange her for a promise of safety.

She sighs into Gannicus´ mouth and then she breaks the kiss and he uses the opportunity and drags her on top of him.

“I have a meeting to attend,” she tells him.

“Have they decided already to whose bed they are going to ship you?” he asks her and there is anger in his voice and Saxa has heard of Capua and of the woman he was forced to bed and she understands.

It doesn’t mean she can tolerate that.

“I have responsibilities. I will not have my people dying just so that I don’t have to touch a Roman cock. And I´d rather be brought there as a bride instead of a slave.”

“Apologies,” Gannicus says softly and she nods and gets back up.

“No need. Are you going to join me?” 

He actually does laugh at it.

“I don’t think your father or the lords would appreciate it.”

“A fact I am well aware of. That is why I am offering.”

“In that case I think I might follow my lady´s wishes,” he tells her.

They leave her room holding hands and she presses to his side if only to annoy the soldiers guarding her and damn, but Saxa regrets that according to her tribe´s rules she cannot marry beneath her station and former gladiator is far from equal match in the eye of law. 

“They are just so boring,” she whispers to him as they enter the council room, “so predictable. Six hours of arguments and then they will decide to meet again. I think my father hopes that if he can prolong this enough, Rome will decide to stop existing and all of the problems will disappear.”

She drinks a bit of wine and decides to ignore her father´s disapproving look.

“I just wish something new happened. Something to make things interesting.”

And fine, later she will ask herself how she didn’t notice that woman before, tall and really pretty with long dark hair and olive skin, dressed in simple but well-made armor, but right now she does notice her as the woman walks into the middle of the room and starts talking, softly but emphatically.

“I was sent by the Thracian king, my lords. He asks for your help in defeating Rome.”

And suddenly everyone in the council gets very very quiet and Gannicus leans closer to her and whispers:

“I think she has just made things interesting enough.”


	3. Mira

Mira expected plenty of things.

She expected being refused immediately, arrested maybe, and shipped to Rome in chains. 

She expected reluctant acceptance of Spartacus´ offer followed by demands of more spoils, more money, more territories, more everything.

She expected laughter, amusement at the fact that the Thracian king sent a former pleasure slave as an envoy.

She didn’t expect the members of council arguing passionately for several hours before telling her they cannot afford going against Rome but she should get some rest and can they send someone who will show her her room? 

What she definitely didn’t expect, was to find a fairly pretty young woman sitting in the middle of the room she had been given.

“Name is Saxa,” the woman says after getting up from the ground.

She is wearing an expensively looking dress, the kind of, that Mira could see Spartacus´ wife wearing before everything went to hell. She also carries two daggers visible on her waist. That Sura never had.

“I´ve heard of your king,” she says, her heavy accent showing, making it clear, that she doesn’t use the common language too often, “he must be brave if he keeps on fighting even though Rome wants to mobilize.”

Mira is sure that she doesn’t ask “what the fuck?” only because she is way too surprised.

She then must notice Mira´s confusion and she smiles.

“He isn’t that famous. I am the chief´s daughter, that’s why I´ve heard of him.”

Mira nods softly and she wonders if she should bow or maybe ask her for forgiveness or something because she might have spent last couple of years by Spartacus´ side and while Spartacus didn’t particularly care about slaves before the Romans made one of his wife but he didn’t insist on his slaves being deferential either. However, she did grow up in Republic and she knows that most of other masters wouldn’t appreciate anything that she has done until now; planning a rebellion, being free, not recognizing them.

“Apologies,” she starts, “I had no idea, I-“

“No need for them,” Saxa answers calmly, “you couldn’t have known. Besides, I don’t particularly care what people think of me.”

“Gratitude.”

“When you spoke in front of my father´s council,” Saxa says after couple of silent seconds, “I don’t think they let you explain everything. I would hear you.”

“What good would it make?” Mira replies, “They have already made their decision.”

“Maybe, but I would still offer understanding if nothing else.”

Mira shrugs and tells her.

She tells her of the attack on Sura during her pilgrimage, she tells her how the Thracian queen was brought to Gaius Glaber and raped by him and his soldiers, she tells her how Spartacus received only a curl of her hair and his own idol, she tells her how he freed all slaves in his kingdom and exclaimed war to the Republic.

She doesn’t tell her how he looked at Mira after receiving his dead wife´s strand of hair; she doesn’t tell her how he kissed her in a way that made her knees weak. She doesn’t tell her how he was the first person who made Mira feel like something more than a toy.

When she finishes Saxa looks at her with sorrow and regret. Then she sighs.

“Does your king have a suitable plan or does he just want to mindlessly attack and hope to kill as many as he can before they take him down?” she asks, not unkindly.

“He does have a plan,” Mira answers, slightly insulted, “his army has already won the Battle of Thurii and just now there is another battle taking place as we speak. My lady, he could win if he had enough soldiers.”

Saxa nods slowly, her fingers absentmindedly playing with one of the daggers. 

“I cannot give you an army,” she says, “not now, not right after my father refused to do so. But I shall go with you. I want to meet that king of yours. See if he really is as worthy as you seem to think.”

Mira should refuse; she shouldn’t let Alerich´s daughter leave the safety of East of Rhine in the name of helping a man she has never met before, but-

But. 

Saxa offered. And Spartacus needs any help she can get him.

It feels completely out of place but she already likes this woman a so, when Saxa offers her a hand, Mira doesn’t hesitate to accept it.


	4. Gannicus

“If you wanted to fuck this woman, you could´ve done it without having to travel to fucking Thrace.”

Saxa doesn’t answer immediately, instead she walks towards the mirror and she starts brushing her hair and Gannicus rolls his eyes before moving so that she cannot ignore him.

“I mean it. Forgetting how we´ve met?”

She sighs and turns her eyes away from the mirror. 

“I know. However, if you want to shout at me, save it, my father has already done that. I know I’m most definitely fucking everything up for everyone in here. I know I shouldn’t go. I know all of that.”

“Then why-“

“I don’t know,” she says softly and for once she sounds entirely like the 22-year old girl she is.

He doesn’t remember her sounding that fragile since he had found her bleeding and trebling on the borders and it kind of scares him, because back then she was at least dying. He knew what to do back then. 

Right know he has no idea what to do, not really.

“I know I am selfish. I know I am most probably fucking up every chance of peace with the Republic. But you didn’t hear her talk. She believes in her king. I wonder how many people here would believe in me the way she does.”

Not many, most probably. She is one of the most skilled warriors Gannicus has ever met, but she is still a woman.

“I know I believe in you,” he tells her softly and she smiles at that and then she gets up and presses against him and he wraps his arms around her waist. 

“I´m coming with you,” he adds and somehow she looks less lost after that.

“I wouldn’t dare asking. But I´ll be glad for it. I don’t think…” she bites her lower lip hard enough to make it bleed. “I don’t think I can manage it on my own.”

He doesn’t tell her that she will never have to be on her own, that he will never let her have to be on her own. Instead, he kisses her, slowly and deeply and he picks her up to carry her to her bed. She moans into his mouth and her fingers bury themselves in his hair as he starts kissing his way down her body. She breaths out his name. 

“You look good like this,” she tells him and he laughs against her thigh before biting it softly and then they don’t really talk for a long time.

 

In the morning when he walks to their horses, Mira is already waiting there.

She is pretty, he notices, tall with dark hair and olive skin and it kind of hurts him to look at her given how much she resembles Melitta. On the other hand, she is armed and she doesn’t have a collar on her throat and that helps.

“I´m Gannicus,” he tells her and she smiles almost sheepishly.

“I know,” she says, “I have heard tales of you.” 

She blushes then. “I mean. We have all heard tales of you. The only gladiator in Capua to ever win his freedom in arena. People talk.”

He nods shortly, the memories tasting bitter but he doesn’t tell her that those tales probably don’t mention Varus or Melitta or having to watch her die in front of him and not being able to do anything about it.

“Spartacus will be pleased when he finds out about you,” she continues, “his cause needs more skilled warriors.”

“I´m afraid he won´t be, after he finds out I am not going there to become another fool believing your mighty ruler can save us all and defeat the republic. No one can.”

“But you are coming.”

“Yes, but with mind set only on one purpose. I have a warrior princess to protect.”

“Are you-“ Mira starts and then she coughs. “Is she your woman?”

Gannicus almost laughs.

“More like I am her man. But to give a pleasant answer. She isn’t- and never will be- my wife.”

“But you love her. Apologies, I shouldn’t have. I mean no offense. I merely want to know.”

“No offense taken. She is a friend. And a lover. But our relationship is… very open.” He smirks. “If you get what I mean.”

“And what do you mean?” Saxa´s voice is calm and when they both turn to look at her, he can see that she is wearing practical leather armor and she has not only her two daggers but also a sword. 

“As my father made clear, my fiancé is meant to come here in three months from now and I´d better be back by then. We have to get going.”

As they ride from the village with rain quietly falling and with sun having no intentions to rise, Gannicus can´t help thinking that chances that she will be back on time to prevent all the hell breaking loose is very meager.


End file.
